It was some seconds before Gil’s father spoke again, and the sailor shuffled about uneasily under his searching gaze.
“You said you were without water.”
“We haven’t had a drop since we landed; but a couple of casks of rum come ashore, an’ we’ve managed to get along with that.”
“Did you scuttle the brig before leaving her?”
“There was no chance to do anything of the kind. We kept her headed for the key till the fire got the best of us, and she was in a light blaze when we saw her last.”
“How many are there of you?”
“Fourteen all told.”
“It’ll be snug stowing; but we’ll run for Nassau, and land you as soon as possible,” and Captain Mansfield turned as if to intimate that the interview was at an end.
“You’ll have to take deck passage, for there are only four bunks in the forecastle, and they are all filled,” Mr. Jenkins said, as he motioned the men forward.
“All right. Of course, we’re willin’ to stand our share of the work,” the man replied, as he slouched along the deck with a swaggering air.